


Cows, Churches, Graveyards

by rosetintmyworld



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Aftermath, Domestic Violence, Gen, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9864263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosetintmyworld/pseuds/rosetintmyworld
Summary: Katy knows she has to get away to save her two children





	

**Author's Note:**

> Maya and Lucas are brother and sister in this. I just wanted something sort of about Katy and it worked well.

Katy watched as Kermit walked out of the house, tucking his pants in as he threatened that the house had better be clean by the time he got home. It was four thirty on a Tuesday morning and she was sore, still feeling the phantom fingers wrapped around her neck. Her nose had bled earlier, still staining her skin a violent red. She waited for the sound of the garage door opening and the car starting before moving into the bedroom. She grabbed the telephone, dialing a cab service before rushing into the children’s rooms. She had two children, Maya and Lucas. They were born in this tiny county, weened in this cozy cul-de-sac. They had an easy life, the neighborhood sleepy and quiet. All of the houses shared the same mailboxes and grass that never exceeded an inch. The houses were all painted white, and every yard had a swing set. Her children had always been fortunate, coming from an upbringing that Katy was not used to. She’d been raised in a small country county in the bible belt. There was a church every block and only one stoplight in the whole town. She was less fortunate as a child, her parents struggling to hold on to the ‘southern’ ideals of a woman being a home maker and her father being a bread winner. It was always tough, but they made it through and she told herself she would never follow in her mother’s shoes. She would be her own woman, make her on path.

Now look at her.

Katy got the children out of bed, Lucas first, letting him slip into some clothes as she went to go rouse Maya. Lucas was eleven years old, and God, she’d been with that man for more than eleven years? Where had that time gone? Where had her youth gone? Maya was seven years old, bone straight blonde hair and fiery eyes, she was a rowdy little thing. Lucas was quiet, took in the world with his wide blue eyes, but never made a comment. Sometimes she wanted to ask the child what he was thinking, was he disappointed in his mama? Did he understand what was happening?

She heard a horn go off in the front yard and she threw a jacket over her frame quickly, pushing the children out of the house. She gave the cab driver instructions to get them to the bus station and he looked at her through the rearview mirror.

She knew what she looked like, her eye was swollen shut and she had a cut that had just recently stopped bleeding over her eyebrow. Her nose was bruised, but thankfully not broken, the bottom of her face still stained red even though she’d splashed water over her. Several black handprints climbed up her neck.   


“Ma’am, are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” The man asked and she nodded, wishing she had grabbed sunglasses or something to make her feel less vulnerable.

“I’m sure, we’re actually going on a family trip, ain’t that right guys, we’re going to beach,” She said, watching as Lucas looked up at her, his wide eyes just staring up at her. She’d do anything to make him react to her, just once. Maya slept in Lucas’s arms, her head placed on his shoulders. The kids were wearing bruises as well, Maya on her shoulder, and Lucas on his chin. Maya had dropped a dish, broke it to pieces and Kermit snatched her up before she could blink. Lucas intervened like he always did when Maya was in trouble and got a black eye for it. That was when she decided, she couldn’t stay. So they were leaving, taking a trip from Tulsa, Oklahoma to Wilmington, North Carolina, where she would meet up with an old friend before deciding her next course of action. It was going to be five days in total, because she had to reroute the trip, make sure she wasn’t leaving an easy trail. Kermit finding her was a nonstarter. If he found her, she was dead and she knew that deeply in her bones. She knew it like she knew the swirl of hair at the back of Kermit’ head, or the smell of honey suckles that grew like vines around her fence back home with her parents.

She was not going to let him kill her. She had to be here for her children.

“Stay safe.” The cabbie imparted and she gave him the same false smile she’d been giving herself in the mirror every morning as she tried to convince herself that it wasn’t that bad, that he really loved her.

It didn’t work then, and she was sure it didn’t work now.

 

Midday burned down over the family through the tented bus tickets. Sweat made the dress she was wearing cling to her back and Maya whined again.

“Are we there yet? When do we see the fishies?” Maya complained and Katy took a deep breath. She was generally slow to anger, counseled from a young age that women should be seen not heard, docile and genteel, never angry, always sweet. She wanted to shake that, but wasn’t sure what it would be like to just get truly angry, to let all of that rage pour out of her. However, she could feel herself losing her handle on it.

“Maya.”

“Fishies, fishies fishies, I wanna see the fishies, fishies fishies fishies,” She chanted to herself.

“Maya, please.” Katy intoned and Lucas grabbed Maya’s hand, catching Katy’s eyes before pointing out of the window.

“Hey, let’s play ‘My cow’, but you have to be quiet okay, mama doesn’t feel well and we don’t want to make her sick, right?” Lucas spoke.

“Right.”

Katy watched as they pointed out cows, churches, and graveyards over the flat terrain. It seemed like that was something there was not a shortage of in the south, Cows, Churches, and Graves. You work hard, you worship Jesus, and you die. Lather, rinse, repeat. A billboard reminded her that Real Christians followed all of God’s laws. That Jesus would save her if she just repented. She wouldn’t even know where to begin and she was tired of apologizing. She’s done it for twelve years.

The first time Kermit hit her had been exhilarating in a way. She was fresh out of high school, aspirations of attending college in the fall, ready to spread her wings. She’d known Kermit since she was fourteen, also from the same backwoods township she was. She was ready to get out of the small town life, and she had a boyfriend- no a fiancé and she was feeling high. She hadn’t wanted to get engaged young, but he was a sweet guy with a promising future and her best friend. They’d gone out, she couldn’t remember what bar this was, because no one carded anyone in her hometown, as long as you weren’t the sheriff’s son and you didn’t do anything stupid, they’d serve you. He’d been mad because she was supposedly flirting with another guy and he took her into the men’s room. An argument started and he slapped her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was oddly happy. She’d seen this sort of thing on television, it meant he was passionate, that he cared about her, he loved her.

 

They arrived in Arizona, the red dust sticking to their lungs like a second skin. They were on the second day of the journey, and the kids had found other ways to preoccupy themselves. She’d bought sunglasses at the first station, a cheap pair, all black and made of plastic. It hid her healing eye, and they got less of those pitying glances. She hated to be pitied, to be sympathized with. She knew that they were judging her, how could she allow her husband to hit her? How could she stay? How could she allow her children to be in such a situation. She heard those whispers about other woman, hell she’d said the same thing, passing it around the prayer circle as they judged the latest transient member of the congregation. Now she understood, and that was the bitch of it all.

Katy paid for a week at the motel with a credit card. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that he was going to come looking for her, that he was going to access her bank records and try to find her. That was why she was only staying for a night. By the time he got the notification, she’d be on her way out, her credit card maxed out. It was fine though, he would believe that if she wasn’t in the motel, she would still be around town, with no money left.  He didn’t know she’d started a bank account at an entirely different bank, put part of the money he gave her for groceries and other trivial things like hair and make-up, because he married a beauty queen and he was damned if she was going to let herself go, in it.  He checked her receipts of course, but she found ways to circumvent it, buying things and returning them immediately after she bought them. She asked for two copies of each receipt, she moved in secrecy.

“Mama, when are we going home?” Lucas asked and she looked over at the boy. They had made their way east again, now staying in Kansas, another flat state with an abundance of Cows, Churches, and Graveyards. They were staying in a double occupancy motel room, this one paid for with cash.  The red blankets were crisp and itchy, turning the underside of her jaw red. The walls were blank, and the TV was high up on a bureau. Some cartoon show was muted, an old one where the protagonists chased each other with comically large weapons and dropped anvils on each other. Maya was asleep, her body tucked into Lucas’s, and he petted her head softly, absently.

“We’re not,” She answered truthfully and he nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Is it because Dad hit me? Did I break you guys up?” He asked and she got off of the bed, pressing her sharp fingers into his cheeks.

“Never, this is not your fault. I left because I didn’t want any of us hurt again. This is all his fault, so don’t blame yourself,” She whispered fiercely, and he nodded.

“I’m glad we’re leaving,”.

“Me too, Lucas Me too,”.

                Katy watched as the water got closer and closer to her. She could feel the excitement of the trip coming to a head. She was in Wilmington NC, and headed towards Kure beach. There she would meet Shawn and he’d help her figure out what was next. Maya’s face was pressed to the glass as the beach houses lined the strip of road. They’d given up on Cows, Churches, and Graves. There weren’t many cows in Wilmington, so she’d started calling out my Dog, my beach house. There were no shortage of attractive singles walking their adorable dogs. Maybe they’d get a dog, Kermit was always allergic. They pulled up to the aquarium and Katy paid the cabbie. Shawn met her at the doors and she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

                “Come on, let’s go in.” He instructed her before paying their fare in.

                Katy watched as her children walked around the aquarium, their hands behind their back, afraid to touch. Lucas bent down introspectively, his arms tucked to his chest as he looked into the fish tanks reading the plaques to Maya quietly and it hurt her heart. She’d watched the other kids running around, yelling, screaming, demanding. Her kids were quiet still. Where did they learn this? Where did they learn to be quiet? Where did they learn not to touch, even when allowed? Where did they learn to not ask for things? When did they learn to tiptoe and to stop being kids, to stop living? Had she taught them that? Kermit taught her those lessons, and she knew she had made the right decision to leave.

“What next Katy?” Shawn asked.

What next?


End file.
